


Purpose

by iwillrunforever



Series: Purpose [1]
Category: DCU, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Cult, Death, F/M, Murder, might do a second part to this, season 5, we'll see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 04:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20736464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillrunforever/pseuds/iwillrunforever
Summary: After the bridges connecting Gotham to the rest of the world were destroyed, you lost everything. And that makes you perfect in the eyes of a certain criminal mastermind.





	Purpose

Broken glass crunches under your bare feet as you limp past empty buildings. You barely feel it. The shouting and screaming that echoes across the dark zone are dull. You’re numb to it. To everything. This isn’t living anymore; it’s existing. And it’s barely even that. The street is a ruin, dead bodies littered across the road and sidewalk, trees torn down, cars destroyed. And yet, somehow, against all odds, you have survived. You’re still here in the destruction of the city. But you wish you weren’t. You feel like you’re walking through a dream. Or a nightmare.

“You look like you’ve lost the will to live,” You stop and turn slowly towards the voice. A young man in his early twenties sits on a bench that you’d just walked past. You hadn’t noticed him before, but now that you have you examine him closely. He’s well-dressed, better than anyone you’ve seen since the bridges were destroyed, wearing a white shirt and black tie.  
“That’s an understatement.” You mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself. In the months since Gotham fell into chaos, you’ve lost your family, your friends, your home. Everything.  
“My name’s Michael.”  
“(Y/N).” You wouldn’t normally tell a stranger your name, but nothing about life is normal anymore.  
“What if I told you I know how you could find a new purpose?” He stands and approaches, a cat-like smile on his face.  
“Everything has a price.”  
“A price?” His grin widens and he offers a hand. “Oh, just your life.” Something tells you he’s not joking.  
“Not much, then,” You take his hand and let him guide you away. _It’s not like I have anything else to lose. _

*

Michael leads you into an old, dilapidated building, where four people are sitting waiting, some dressed the same as him while others are dressed in just ordinary clothes. They’re sat on benches, set up like pews in a church, facing a lectern where a woman wearing a mask and a hooded cloak stands at attention. She notices the two of you immediately, tilting her head as you sit.  
“And two more makes six,” Her voice is high-pitched, almost sing-song – far too cheery for the state of the world right now. “Welcome, everyone, to the Church of Jeremiah. Here you will find a higher purpose.” _I wonder whether she actually believes that. _She begins to walk down the pews, examining the people sitting there carefully from behind her mask. You wait with trepidation on your face, jaw clenched as she approaches slowly. She finally comes to a stop behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder and forcing you to crane your neck to see her. “Now, what’s your name, sweetie?”  
“(Y/N),” You mutter. She gives your shoulder a sharp squeeze and leans down so her face – or mask – is level with yours.  
“Louder… please.”  
“(Y/N),” You speak up, trying and failing to pull away from her grip.  
“And why are you here, _(Y/N)_?” You go to speak, but she interrupts you before you can do more than take a breath. “Wait, let me guess.” She releases you, moving around the bench slowly to stand in front of you. Everyone’s eyes are watching the two of you. “You’ve lost everything. Hopeless. Seeking for anything to fill the void inside of you?”  
“Yeah, pretty much. That alright?”  
“Better than alright.” She takes your face in her hands. Framing it. “You’re exactly what we’re looking for.” You sit there, frozen, as she looks at you for what feels like an age until she drops her hands and returns to the front. “There is only one requirement for you to join the Church. You must be prepared to sacrifice everything, even to die, for Jeremiah.” You turn to look at Michael, finding him watch the woman almost in awe of what she’s saying. If you had been living any other life you would have left now. This is insanity. But what’s the point? You leave and you’ll die on the streets, from dehydration, or starvation, or murdered by one of the gangs. This can’t be any worse than those. “This is your last chance to turn back – to return to whatever pitiful existence came before.” Nobody moves. “Perfect.” She pulls off the hood and mask, revealing messy blonde hair and a face painted white. Her eyes are wide, manic, and her grin matches. “My name is Ecco: Jeremiah’s second-in-command. Now, follow me.” You hesitate while everyone else still stands, but you quickly join the rear of the group as they begin to head up the stairs towards whatever the “Church of Jeremiah” is.

*

The room you arrive in is shocking, to say the least. In the centre is a swimming pool, drained of water but stained with blood. The sight makes your heart skip a beat – maybe starvation was a better option. But it’s too late now. Across from the door the group entered through is a stained glass window that displays the image of who you guess is Jeremiah. You descend the stairs with the others, forming a circle around a square table covered with a red cloth.  
“Mind your step,” Ecco murmurs softly as you walk through the pools of blood. The cold liquid sticks to your feet and you shudder. Once you have all taken position, some shifting uneasily while others stand confident, she continues. “Before you can have the honour of joining the Church, you must prove your faith, and your loyalty.” She steps forward and pulls away the cloth, revealing six guns and six bullets. _Shit. _“Six shooters – bang, bang. Each of you will have one gun, and one bullet.” The confident ones step forward immediately. You watch them each place a bullet into the barrel and spin it shut. Russian roulette. “Of course, if you’re too much of a scaredy-cat, we’ll let you leave. Just not alive.” She giggles, eyes firmly planted on you as you hurry to imitate them, feeling her gaze on you the whole time. She beams, excited at your cooperation. In a dramatic motion, she lifts the table above her head and out of the way, climbing out of the pool to watch as the group raises their guns as one. You hold yours as steady as you can, but can’t stop the shaking in your arm. The cold barrel of the one behind you presses against the base of your skull. This is practically a death sentence. And even if you survive, you may become a murderer. Was it really worth it? But trying to leave now would make your demise a certainty – and you’re not ready for that. You grit your teeth, steeling yourself for the sound of the weapons firing, readying yourself for death. Ecco calls out from behind the railings, smiling down at you, “This will make Jeremiah so happy, little ones. Now, on the count of three: One. Two… Goose!” She yells out, making the person standing in front of you jump. You’re surprised no one misfired. “Just making sure you’re paying attention,” She gives a sinister smile, the cheery tone of her voice taking on a more menacing edge. “Three!” Your eyes snap shut as you pull the trigger.

_BANG!_

Bodies fall to the floor. Four to be precise. The girl in front of you is dead. _I killed her._ You let out a shaky gasp and drop the gun, stepping back into a fresh pool of blood. Only one other person is alive. Michael lies dead, as does the one behind you. You and the other survivor look at each other, joy spreading across his face while horror spreads across yours. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to survive. Now your future is completely in the hands of Jeremiah, whoever he is. Ecco claps, a gleeful squeal escaping her lips.  
“Oh, goody!” She joins you in the bottom of the pool, seemingly unaffected by the people that were just murdered. She takes your jaw in her hand and squeezes tight. She draws you close so that your noses are practically touching, and you can’t look away. “I was hoping you’d survive,” She giggles. Her hand forcibly moves your head to look at the person you killed. “And you didn’t just survive. You thrived!” The giggle turns into a cackle and she releases you, stepping back and turning so that she can see both of you. “Now, it is time for you to meet him. The one and only, our saviour: Jeremiah.”

*

You follow her through corridors and down stairs, approaching the sound of metal clanking and feet shuffling.  
“Who even is Jeremiah?” You wonder under your breath. The other survivor stops for a moment, a look of shock and horror spreading across his face, and he struggles to find words.  
“You seriously don’t know?” You shake your head.  
“Should I?” The name seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it to anyone or anything.  
“He’s the reason we’re all here; he changed the world.” He tells you passionately – it’s almost like he’s been brainwashed.  
“But what did he do?” You just want to know. If this is your life now, you deserve to know who you’ve been ensnared by and why.  
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Ecco says, turning to face you and bowing dramatically. You’ve arrived in a large room, the windows boarded up to stop the light coming in. Boxes and shelves litter the floor and people move about robotically, pushing wheelbarrows to and fro. Dust chokes the air and you cough. In the centre stands a tall man with dark hair. Jeremiah, you assume. He seems to be talking to himself, muttering and arguing, occasionally gesturing frantically with his hands.  
“Do we actually get to meet him?” Joy fills the others face. He must really love this Jeremiah.  
“She does,” Ecco points at you dramatically, staying as still as a statue while she turns her head to face him. “You… don’t.” His face falls – he looks like he’s about to start sobbing.  
“But… I thought… Why not?”  
“You get to meet Jeremiah,” She weaves closer to him until they are face to face. “When you prove yourself!” She screams, making both of you flinch. She shoves him away and one of the many people filtering through the room grabs his arm and drags him off, ignoring his protests. Ecco’s arm wraps around you, holding you tight to her body and pulling you towards Jeremiah.  
“What have I done to prove myself?” You question, but her only answer is a finger over your lips, hushing you. “Boss!” She calls out, her voice light and airy again. He turns around and you can’t help but gasp slightly. He’s handsome, that much is obvious, but it’s disguised by the porcelain white of his skin and glassy green of his eyes. A menacing grin appears on his face, his eyes fixed on the woman next to me. Her smile matches his. “The newbie here wanted to meet ya’.” She pinches your cheek as though you’re a child. You try to pull away but she’s unexpectedly strong. His eyes flick over to you and look you up and down.  
“Oh, really?” He takes a step closer. “And what is “the newbie” called?” He over-enunciates every word as though he is making a grand speech to a crowd of thousands, rather than just you and Ecco. She nudges you, faux-encouragement.  
“(Y/N),” You tell him and he nods slowly, as though deep in thought.  
“And why are you here, _(Y/N)_?” He seems to tower over you – you have to crane your neck up to look into his distractingly clear eyes. Something in them, the intensity, makes you shiver. A shaky gasp escapes your lips when he uses your name.  
“Honestly,” Your voice is unsteady, your mind thrown by Jeremiah’s presence, “I don’t know. I thought this wouldn’t be anything, or that I would die as soon as I stepped through the door, but…”  
“No, no,” He shakes his head and his smile turns mocking, patronising. “Don’t lie to yourself. I want the truth.” Your stomach twists.  
“I… I’ve lost everything. I have nothing, no one. So why not? What else is there? The dark zone? Constant fear?” _Why not _perfectly sums up everything that lead you here. Why not talk to the strange man on the street? Why not follow him to “a new purpose”? Why not join the strange church? Why not kill an innocent person? Why not? Before you would have been screaming at yourself, the endless reasons twisting in your brain, but now…  
“I suppose it’s a good enough reason as any.” He begins to circle you like a shark, sizing you up. Ecco watches on, her head tilted in fascination. “Everything, you say?” His voice is probing, interrogating, digging away at the inner workings of your mind, of your very soul.  
“Everything.” You affirm.  
“No family, no friends?” Even thinking about them makes your heart ache; you miss them so much. “No attachments?” You shake your head, not trusting your voice. “A shame for you,” You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or if he, in his own way, is being sympathetic. “To have everything taken from you so cruelly.” He moves back in front of me, his face twisted into an unreadable expression.  
“I don’t even have anyone to blame,” His lips form a sly smirk, almost smug in a way. It confuses you. “Whoever it was, whoever did this to Gotham, I hate them. But I can’t do anything. And that’s almost worse.”  
“To be filled with anger but no direction? I’m glad Ecco brought you to me,” She giggles, proud of her achievement and glad for the approval of her boss. “You’re exactly what we need. What I need.” His words fill your brain, pushing everything else out. The idea of being needed. Of Jeremiah needing you. You barely know him, but the emptiness inside of you longs for connection, to be important to someone again.  
“But… What makes me what you need? Why me?”  
“Someone with no purpose, empty but for anger?” He grips your chin in a hand clothed in a black leather glove, bruising and vice-like. He pulls you close, hot breath fanning across your face. “You’re perfect.” In an instant his lips are on yours, cold like stone, pressed against your mouth and trapping your senses so all you can feel his him. Your eyes snap closed immediately as he dominates the kiss, controlling your every movement. You hear Ecco yelp in excitement, her hands clapping, but they are drowned out by Jeremiah. Just as you go to touch him he lets you go, pushing you back with a harsh shove so you stumble into Ecco’s arms. “Take her away.” He turns from you, surveying the work being done, as Ecco begins to drag you out of the room. She’s practically skipping, while you are still trembling from the encounter. You don’t know what this means, but it can’t be anything good.


End file.
